


Autumn Leaves

by PrinceOfOneSingleDomain



Series: Flowers of a Future Ooo [2]
Category: Adventure Time
Genre: 1000+ Ooo, Action/Adventure, Forests, Friendship, Future Fic, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Other, Past Relationship(s), Reincarnation, Spoilers, Swords, after the finale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-25
Updated: 2018-09-28
Packaged: 2019-07-17 13:46:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16096868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrinceOfOneSingleDomain/pseuds/PrinceOfOneSingleDomain
Summary: Caught in a conflict between Sweet P. and a great returning evil, Shermy tumbles down a mountainside and meets someone who seems to know him, even though he's never seen her before. Could this be the Huntress Wizard BMO told him about?





	1. Quake and Crack

**Author's Note:**

> I just can't help myself - future Ooo is such an interesting place, and both Shermy and Beth have endeared themselves to my heart quicker than I'd thought possible.
> 
> Two chapters to go here - and a familiar face to meet! Stay tuned for more very soon.

Shermy was on his back, looking at the bandage now hiding part of his right hand. His fingers were already feeling much better, but he was still scared to take it off – what if his hand was all purple? He hugged his pillow, a light blue one he called Quilton. It almost made him fall asleep, but not quite - the memory of what he'd just seen was too fresh in his mind. He had to ask the King. 

„Are you sure you wanna bring him this?”, Beth asked, turning the one red autumn leaf Shermy had given her over in her hand. It was glistening in the faint light of their home, and seemed to breathe, growing larger and smaller every other moment. It would probably even glow in the dark if they turned off the lamp. “I think we should keep it. I'm scoping it out over here, and it's mad impressive.”

Shermy turned around on his makeshift bed, looking down at Beth with a weary expression on his face, his two buck teeth idly biting at his lip. “Yeah. I mean, look at it. It’s bazooka-cool. But still.” Beth had never seen Shermy this forelorn – usually, he jumped around holding his new discoveries whenever he returned home, his eyes buzzing with excitement. Now, his clothes looked damaged, his hand was bandaged and there was something like band-aid underneath his eye. His general air seemed like he’d just run a marathon. And fallen twice before he finally reached the finish line, and there were no refreshments. Beth shuddered at the thought.

“Where did you even find it? I was worried, you know", she said. "You were gone for more than a day. What happened to you? Who fixed you up like this?”

Shermy shrugged, smiling sheepishly. “Well, gotta have my own adventures sometime too, right? Improve my solo-rank. Pickin’ flowers doesn’t give much EXP, you know.”

 “Ah, there it is! I’m sure you’d pick every flower in the kingdom if there was a ghoul telling you you’d have to get through him first.”

“Come on. No-one could ever refuse that.”

Beth put the leaf down and looked at it under her microscope. There were small streams of light running down its length, as if they were transporting magic through the its veins.

“Where did you even find this?”

“The forest.”

“I’ve never seen any tree like this. And I’ve looked at a lot of trees in my day.”

“Never said it was a tree." Shermy made a noise that was supposed to sound like a goofy synthesizer, but ended up being a sad trumpet floating fartily through the air instead. "You shall never know my secret, mortal!"

“Shermes, you don't know what you're starting.”

“I’m gonna go bring it up to him. Right now. You'll see.”

“Wait, wait, wait – you’re not going anywhere.”

Beth but the leaf into her pocket dimension. Shermy squealed.

“Beth, don't be a butt. Return my booty at once, loiterer!”

“Not until you tell me how you found it. I’m sure you’re itching to, anyway.”

“I was just gonna tell you later, anyway. Need the right ambiance.”

“What, our humble abode not enough for the great solo adventurer of Ooo?”

Shermy pouted. “Do not dare mock me, Pup Princess. The world has yet to see my storytelling powers.”

“Let me have a taste, then.”

Shermy jumped down, keeping the sword on his back steady with a hand on its hilt. He climbed up Beth’s body, making sure he was seated safely on her head before he spoke again.

“Can we start walkin’ to the King’s, though? I’ll tell you as we go.”

“Alright, alrigh”, Beth said, “but we’re taking the scenic route”

Shermy buried his head into Beth’s and grumbled. “Not the scenic route.”

“Yes the scenic route. Now start talkin’, or else there’ll be no walkin’”, Beth said, a wide grin on her face. “Or should I tickle it out of you?”

“Oh Glob, no! Nonono. I’ll start." Shermy bowed down on top of her. "Have mercy.”

It got him every time. The mere mention of it was enough. She had only actually tickled him seriously once, and it had been a terrible mistake she had to swear never to repeat – the damage she’d caused in Princess Zip’s castle was almost unfathomable, and her people were still busy with repairs. However, a small threat never hurt anyone.

“So”, Shermy started as soon as they’d left Marceline’s old house, “I was thinking about where to pick some kick-butt flowers for the King.”

***

Shermy was looking out the field of flowers where Beth and he had found the first ones they'd brought the King, its gentle yellow blossoms swaying in a faint breeze. It was peaceful. Ethereal, even. He could feel the buzzing of two-headed bees and the smell of sweet mother nature in the air. The field itself was high up and remote, right on a mountain not unlike the one the King lived on – he could even see his house in the distance, smoke quietly rising from the chimney. He must have a visitor, Shermy thought, maybe Princess Bubblegum and Marceline, maybe even someone Shermy and Beth had never seen before. The King never used any firewood for himself, said it hurts the environment and is too difficult to set on fire with his small hands. Shermy could relate, though his hands were, as it was known (or soon would be), the most powerful small hands in all the lands. He looked back down at the field of flowers, their blooming bodies inviting him to pick them up, dance around and enjoy the brief miracle of life to its fullest under the brilliant grey of the clouds.

It bored him to tears. Flowers never did anything. Why couldn’t the King have asked for anything else they could bring him? “Flowers”, he’d said, “pretty ones.” For one, pretty, as Beth often said, was a subjective view of an objective reality. Shermy agreed wholeheartedly, even though he always stopped listening at the first “-ective” he heard in any sentence, unless it was “detective”. And for two, the King could have asked for the most badass swords in all of Ooo to be delivered to his doorstep instead – they wouldn’t wither. At most, they’d rust a bit, looking even more awesome. Shermy would’ve gladly obliged.

As it was now, he was stuck on flower duty because Beth was spending all her time with recently returned Princess Bubblegum, because “who knows when she’ll leave again.” Shermy didn’t get it – why would anyone leave this place? Ooo was awesome. Now, with the King’s stories in the back of his mind, it only felt more alive.

He heard distant footsteps, the ground quietly quaking beneath his feet. The Prize Ball Guardian, here? He climbed up to get a better vantage point, scaling a stone wall with ease. There was a large forest on the other side, stretching as far as the eye could see and even reaching up to and across the King’s mountain. The footsteps stopped. Shermy stared.

The Giant Warrior, the one Peppermint Butler had called Sweet P. once. Beard. Hair. Sword. Right there. Right in front of him. Standing. Looking out. Looking for something. Searching the sky, the clouds. Shermy had never actually been this close to him and awake at the same time – the last time they’d been this close, Beth and him had gotten lost somewhere, settling down for a cold night in the open, when, as Beth told him later, the Giant Warrior picked them up and carried them home, Shermy still fast asleep. He would usually see the Warrior while running away from something, his golden mane somewhere in the distance, or when the Warrior was fighting somebody almost as large as him for the umpteenth time.

Looking at him like this, the Giant Warrior seemed to be more like a tree than an actual living person with a past. Shermy couldn't imagine him ever being anything but a large machine of power and protection.

Suddenly, everything started shaking violently, and a loud, cold wind cut through the trees and ripped their leaves into the air. Shermy held on to a small crevice in the mountainside for dear life. A loud kaboom echoed through the valley, coming from somewhere above the clouds. Shermy looked up. The clouds parted.

A large yellow hand descended from the heavens, burning blade at the ready, its entire length aglow with a pulsating dark energy.

“Do you not understand that your body is mine, child? I will have it."

The sound didn't even seem to be coming from anywhere, yet Shermy could hear it both inside his head and echoing from the King's mountain, within and without.

The Giant Warrior unsheathed his sword and braced for impact.

The last thing Shermy remembered before all went black around him was their swords meeting, melting into each other like two blades of ice suddenly hitting a ball of fire at the same time, the trees moving as one, leaves fluttering in the wind, and the rock he held on to giving way under his fingers.

*** 

“Wait, Shermy, are you really okay?”, Beth asked. "That sounds bizonkers." She pulled Shermy off her head and held him in her hands, him squirming in her grasp before she lightened it around him. His eye twitched. He moved his teeth to bite her finger, but she calmly put him back on her head, giving him a slight pat on the hat as he settled in. “Well, obviously!”, he answered then, crossing his arms even though Beth couldn't see. The thought counted. “I got help, you know. Worked my charm.”

 “On the Warrior? Did he carry you home again? No, wait. I would’ve heard him coming.”

“No, it wasn’t the Warrior. But… you remember the King’s story, right?”

“Yeah? Was it Marceline? I bet it was Marceline.”

“No, not her, either.”

“Who, then?”

Shermy sighed. He still had a long story to tell, but they weren’t even halfway to the King’s mountain, so there was time. The leaves of a nearby tree moved against each other, and the sounds of their small scratches and touches moved together to form a soothing blanket, relaxing Shermy even further into the comfy warmth of Beth's head. He continued.


	2. A Huntress in Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter will be uploaded on the weekend, until then - hope you enjoy this one!
> 
> I'm also just delighted to see some people have been looking forward to the continuation, it really, really made my day. Your comments make all the work worth it tenfold.
> 
> Also, if there's any criticism you might want to share - feel free, I'd love to hear your thoughts, whatever they might be.

He came to in an apartment carved into a large tree trunk – there was no bed, barely any furniture other than a couple of chairs attached to the floor, but there were pictures etched into the walls showing animals in flight, creatures collecting around fire, and a particularly detailed one reminding Shermy of Princess Bubblegum on top of a mountain, though he wasn’t sure. luminescent mushrooms, a small stream running through and something that looked remarkably like an ancient (“and I mean ancient-ancient, ancient _squared,_ Beth”) gaming console in the corner.

There was another room, separated from his by a number of vines that had closed the entrance off like a curtain.

Light fell in from through small holes in the walls, painting rays into the air, illuminating dancing pecks of dust. Shermy sat up and rubbed his head – there was a small bandage with some plants pressed inside of it on the back of his right hand, and he couldn’t move his fingers without them hurting. He touched his head – a large band-aid beneath his left eye. He’d gotten it pretty bad.

Awesome. Battle scars for days, brother.

A voice came from outside, quiet and kind, but with a dangerous edge, like it might grow serious at any moment.

“Don’t move. Keep your hand still.”

He turned around. The voice was coming from behind him, but there was no hole there, nothing to see through. Shermy stood up, his feet hurting but mostly okay, and walked out of the tree room, using his left hand for balance.

He’d never seen the forest like this. The sun was shining her last above the incredibly tall tree tops, but he could barely tell because they were so close together they almost formed a closed bed, impenetrable by light, only small gaps in their shadows hinting at the sun’s struggle to pass through. It smelled like the forest was not just all around him, but part of the air he breathed, and growing larger with every second he spent inside.

He walked around the tree house, head still dizzy – and almost fell again when his hand slipped. It was right on a cliff, the fall hidden by trees having grown all around it, filling up any empty space to the bottom with green leaves and brown trunks. Still, if he stumbled here, that would probably be it. He was an acrobat, a true connoisseur of the bodily arts (“I’m only telling the truth here, Beth.”), but this was entirely too much.

“Come on. Give me your hand. Let me take a look. Don’t give me that lip, dude, you’re not a kid anymore.”

The Giant Warrior was sitting cross-legged to his right, his breath moving the leaves high above Shermy in a calm rhythm, his shoulders barely underneath the tree-tops. A large green gash had appeared on his shoulder, looking as if a large bird had brought its claws down upon him and buried them deep inside. A couple of leaves were stuck to it, moving around slightly in the wind. Where had the voice been coming from?

Shermy spotted something next to the Warrior, a jar with rainbow-coloured glass. There was something behind, but he couldn’t quite tell what it was. He approached it cautiously, nervously eyeing both the Warrior and the leaves stuck to his arm,

“The hand…”, Shermy whispered.

“Hm?”

The leaves detached, climbed down the length of the Warrior’s body in a single swift jump and moved to Shermy so quickly he barely had a second to blink.

“You fell down, right?”, they said.

Shermy nodded.

The body was green, wearing old clothes painted grey by the times, that he was sure of, but her hair – or what he thought was her hair – took his breath away for a second. Red, brown and yellow leaves cascaded down the length of her back and legs, falling forward, covering most of her. Some of them were falling down as Shermy looked at her, but it seemed like new ones were growing everywhere,  well, albeit slowly, and none of them were green, not even the few still growing on her antlers. She pushed her hair aside to put her hands on her hips. The leaves whispered to themselves at her touch.

She looked him up and down, a flash of confused recognition across her features.

“You’re still as careful as ever, you know that?”

“Do – uh – do we know each other?”

She stared at him, eyes white beneath a black mask. With a small flurry of leaves, she brought her face dangerously close to his.

“Personal space, please!”, Shermy said, taking a tentative step back.

“You don’t think we do, huh. Could have sworn you had the same mojo.”

The Giant Warrior gave a grunt. It felt like the sky was rumbling.

“I’ll be right back”, she said. With a swift motion that made her disappear into a streak of red and light-brown light, she climbed back up the Warrior, pulled something out of her hair and said something that sounded like a spell of some sort, though Shermy wasn’t sure. Her hair started to glow then, and she moved around the Warrior’s arm quickly, wrapping it in a large yellow bandage that soon covered the entire wound.

“Did you get him, at least?”, she said after she was done, her breath grown thinner.

The Warrior reached behind himself and pulled up a large jar. Through the rainbow glass, Shermy saw the hand beating against it, desperate to escape, but it made no sound.

“Good job”, the woman said. For just a second, all edge disappeared from her voice, her body relaxed, her arms almost reaching the ground in their oversized length, and she whispered a brief “Don’t overdo it”, to the Warrior, who merely wrapped his fingers closer around the jar. Shermy felt like an intruder in the scene, with every leaf’s shadow on their bodies seemingly coating the forest woman and the Warrior in a deeper shade of familiarity.

She turned around to look at Shermy. “Now you.”

***

“She knows the Warrior?”, Beth asked. “How? I thought he didn’t talk, like, ever.”

“I have no idea”, Shermy said. “Can we hurry up, though? I don’t have that much story left.”

The King's mountain still seemed to be miles away. The scenic route, currently running next to a large lake where they'd once found a magic stick that could only cast small rainbows, was just too scenic for its own good.

“Then you better stretch it.”

“I’m not stretching anything. I’m a Grade-A novelist.”

“Then stop stalling and start… something that rhymes with stalling.”

“Well…”

***

Back in the house, the two of them sat down on the dirt – her closer to the door so there was no way of escape, Shermy towards the back, his shoulders to the wall. He reached for his sword, just in case, but it was gone.

“Hey, lady”, he said, “where’d you put my sword?”

“ _Your_ sword?”

“Why yes, my sword. The legendary Finn planted it, and I reaped it. Like a good treasure hunter.”

“More like a dunk putting his nose where it doesn’t belong”, the woman said, “though I suppose it is yours, in a way.” She scanned Shermy then, focusing his eyes, then his shirt, taking particular notice of its red colour. “Do you ever eat sweets with your face on them?”, she asked.

“Well, I do, but what’s that got to do with…”

“It’s your sword, then.”

 “Ha! See? If even an old forest hag like you has to admit it, of course it’s mine.”

“I’m not old. I’m barely a thousand years old. This tree's older.”

“Wait, did – did you know Finn? You sound like you did. And, by the way, if you did, you _are_ old as _gunk_.”

“Yes, I did.” Her eyes grew wistful for a second before she shook her head. The leaves, all around her on the floor, moved like a body that was just about to throw up, and the sword emerged from their midst.

“You can have it back if you answer a question. What’s your name, anyway?”

“I’m Shermy!”, he said. “I thought I was well-known around these parts.”

“Guess not”, the woman answered, “don’t get cocky so early in your career, kid. You won’t like what happens.”

“What’s your name, lady?”

“It’s been a while since someone called me by name”, she answered, “though I guess it used to be Huntress Wizard. Then, the forest chose me, and I’ve sort of been… here. It's keeping me alive, too.” She looked out at the trees, their leaves gently swaying in Sweet P.'s breath. "Though I wonder..."

“Wait a second, the Huntress Wizard from the King’s story?”

“King?”

“Peppermint Butler calls him BMO. I’d never dare. It’s cooler to have a king around, anyway.”

“What, they’re still around? I was sure at least Peps would have croaked by now, all his experiments and what not. He tried to extract my essence once." She remembered a syringe. She really, really didn't like syringes. "I don’t really see anything outside of this forest. Well, it’s not like I need to, but whatever.”

“Marceline and Princess Bubblegum came back too. At least for a while. I’m not sure how that works yet. But… wait.”

Shermy positively squeed. “I can’t believe it! You’re _the_ Huntress Wizard! And look at you, you're all sorts of different now!” He jumped up, a ball of fur and excitement. “Can you, like, control the trees out there? Can you make them grow faster?”

“I’m a hunter, not a gardener”, she answered. “I could probably make them punch each other if I really wanted to, though it would take an hour.”

“And you got lines for days!”, Shermy said. “I’m impressed.”

“I was always an exceptional beast”, she said, shrugging, “but I guess you only get more awesome with time if you start out right.”

“I’ll write that down and put it under my pillow.”

Huntress Wizard laughed. “You’re just like him.”

“Like who?”

“Like Finn.”

“What – I mean, I just wanna know. What happened to him? How did he… you know?”

Huntress Wizard didn't say a thing for a moment, fumbling with her leaves, looking anywhere but at Shermy before she focused him in her gaze once again, now more stern, with a hint of something he couldn’t quite place. The last time he’d felt like this was when they’d given the King a picture of his friends from way back when, and he’d seen the King sink into himself for a brief moment, as if the memory was pulling him closer. Only Huntress Wizard's picture was in her mind, and instead of sinking into herself she tore away one of her leaves and ran down its length with her fingertips, careful not to hurt its tender form.

“A lot of things happened to Finn”, Huntress Wizard said. “You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

“How did he croak?”, Shermy asked. His voice trembled on the last word – what kills a hero? Or did Finn die of old age? Some part of him felt like he was asking questions about Finns all the time, everywhere, and never getting the right answers he needed. Why did he even care this much?

Huntress Wizard’s eyes grew dark. “He…

Just then, a loud poof of pure darkness cut through the silence outside, and a voice said, mounting in volume:

“This jar is now property of Hunson Abadeer, hand it over! Come on! Don't - I thought this would be way easier, what the junk!”

Huntress Wizard was on her feet immediately, storming outside, a spear already in her hand. The leaf she had been holding fell down behind her, whirling into the air for a brief moment when Shermy passed it on his sprint outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're enjoying this one - it's really fascinating to think about how and why these characters changed.


	3. A Slight Return

Somebody was trying to wrestle the jar from the Warrior’s hands. The hand inside was pushing, punching, doing whatever it could to further its own escape, and it looked like the Warrior was struggling, the bandage around his arm pulsating with green energy.

It was coming undone, slowly unwrapping itself, the wound underneath only looking more dangerous than it had before. Huntress Wizard muttered a small curse under her breath before she faced the newly arrived somebody. His red arms bulged with muscles, and two small bat wings extended from his back, fluttering so quickly they sounded like a pair of clapping hands.

“Wait”, Shermy said, “I know this guy! He’s from the Nightosphere!”

Timothy, a muscular red demon with large bunny ears and a protruding chin that wasn’t hiding the fact he was boring to talk to due to lack of interest outside his line of work, turned around to face Shermy.

Yes, the cat had seen this one before – he was one of the first demons Shermy and Beth had brought to Peppermint Butler in his deep cave close to the ruins. Shermy still remembered the agitated scream Timothy let out when Peps bound his hands and feet, opened the shiny blue portal to the Nightosphere with “No-One Leaves the Nightosphere” firmly punched into the stone above it. “No, please, I – I wanna stay and make pancakes!”, Timothy had pleaded, but Peppermint Butler had merely shaken his red and white head. “Pan this cake”, he’d said, throwing Timothy back into the Nightosphere. Shermy and Beth got two lollipops each. It had been a good day.

Now, he was here, out and about and already making trouble. A gold collar adorned his neck, with a curved red sword dangling by his side. Shermy pointed his blade at him, ready to run and strike at a moment’s notice. Just when he was about to sprint forward, already preparing his mighty scream in advance, Huntress Wizard held a hand behind her back, telling him to stay way. He stopped, but still kept his blade at the ready.

Huntress Wizard brought her arm forward and took aim, her spear morphing into a large green bow. The Demon still hadn’t seen them, focused as he was on holding on to the jar even though the Warrior could tear him apart if he wanted to, if his arm wasn’t hurt as badly as it was.

Timothy held on to the jar, gritting his teeth, his feet digging into the soft earth of the forest, the entire length of his body trembling with effort and fear.

“Don’t make me do this”, Huntress Wizard whispered, pulling an arrow from the sea of leaves across her back.

Finally, the Giant Warrior grunted, the bandage around his wound loosening even further, and pulled with his legs, lifting a screaming Timothy clean off the ground. “Oh Grod”, the demon whined, “please, not this.”

“Just let go of _the Lich_ , you jerk!”, Huntress Wizard yelled, aiming her arrow directly at Timothy.

“Golb!”, Timothy yelled back, his legs dangling precariously in the air, “not you, either!”

The Warrior pulled Timothy and the jar apart with both enormous hands, separating them easily. The hand inside lashed out at the jar in its fury, but the rainbow glass held steady, not even budging under the enormous force the hand was throwing its way. Timothy, apparently not appreciating being held by his ears, pulled his sword out of its scabbard, revealing a jet-black blade. He slashed wildly at the Giant Warrior’s finger, slicing open the very tip of his pinky. The Warrior didn’t make a sound, but let go of the demon either way. Timothy, now falling, pumped his arms into the air in moment of triumph.

"Yeehaw!", he yelled. Oblivious.

As he was falling, Huntress Wizard took aim at him, predicting the trajectory of his descent with her Huntress Vision. Their eyes met. Timothy's excitement turned to pure horror.

“Oh junk”, Timothy said, “It’s you.”

“Oh yes, it’s me!”

An arrow shot through the air so fast Shermy could barely see it, hitting Timothy and going right through him, burrowing into a tree in the distance. The demon’s body disappeared around it, a large hole now forming in his torso. Timothy looked down, a grimace washing quickly across his face, and sighed.

“Aw man, Hunson’s gonna roast me for this”, he said. In a poof, his body disappeared, leaving only a small red card behind. A circle of flames surrounded it the moment it fell to the ground. Huntress Wizard didn’t pay it any mind – her eyes immediately darted to the Giant Warrior’s wound.

“Are you okay?”, she asked, running over to him. “Your bandage is all loose, let me help you, sit still.”

While Shermy picked up the card, stepping over the small circle of flames, she climbed up the Warrior’s arm again and reapplied the bandage, this time speaking a quiet incantation. The bandage started glowing, and the wound beneath it disappeared.

“If you’re gonna have to fight again soon, be careful with this arm”, she said, “the spell heals, but it makes it harder to move.” She jumped down.

The Warrior nodded and stood up. The enormous weight of his feet pushed into the ground.

“Wait, you’re not even healed yet! You have to give it some time.”

He shook his head above the tree tops, something Shermy could only tell because his beard moved as well.

“Alright”, Huntress Wizard said, her voice shrinking slightly, as if someone had hugged her very tightly without her realising, “take care. Come back if you need anything.”

The Warrior left without another word, sword on his back, jar firmly in his hand. Its prisoner had grown limp, not moving a muscle.

Shermy and Huntress Wizard stood for a while, waiting until they couldn’t hear his footsteps anymore.

“Well”, he said, “that was something.”

“Sure was.”

Huntress Wizard sighed deeply, her leaves moving as if they, too, needed a deep breath of fresh air.

“Why were you out and about, anyway?”, she asked Shermy. “Ooo’s become quite the dangerous place, you know.”

“Oh, I almost forgot!”, Shermy said. He looked around frantically. “I’m on flower duty. Beth and I, we bring your BMO flowers so he doesn’t get lonely.”

Huntress Wizard took a long, stern look at Shermy. “You’re good, kid. But don’t touch my forest.”

“Oh, alright. Guess I’m returning empty-handed, though my hands will be full of <em>shame.</em>”

“Nah”, she said, “just bring him this.”

She grabbed one of her leaves, one that looked like a beautiful mixture of colours, autumn distilled, and gave it to Shermy.

“Be careful with it”, she said, kneeling down to his eye-level, “I don’t have all too many of these in me anymore.”

***

“Why didn’t she wanna come? Bring it herself?”, Beth asked. They were almost at the King of Ooo’s, trailing up the mountainside to his house.

“She said she can’t leave the forest. Something something age, something something life force”, Shermy answered. “She gave me a raindeer-ride out, though.”

“A raindeer? So that’s why you were so wet.”

“It’s in the name”, Shermy said. “I asked her about Finn again, too.”

“Yeah? What did she say?”

“That I’d learn in time. I hate it when people get all cryptic on me – what do they think I am, smart and patient? Nuh-uh. Oh, and I was supposed to ask you if you like sandwiches.”

“Hm?”, Beth asked, munching on a small sandwich she’d brought along and spent hours making the day before, putting it in the freezer so it would ripen just right.

“Exactly.”

A voice came out of the King of Ooo’s home, fiery and flamboyant. Just when they thought they should rather put the leaf down and return home without seeing the King, Flame General walked out, adjusting his black glasses and adjusting the hem of his armour. His cape fluttered in the wind, a bright red against the King's castle's dull brown. Also, his head was burning particularly bright, the white X in its middle disappearing behind a layer of pure flame. Beth didn’t want to know what he and the King had talked about – it must’ve been very important to get the General worked up like this.

“Adventurers”, he said, walking past them without another word. He left watery footsteps wherever he trod. Shermy and Beth heard a distinctive beeping noise, and a small helicopter flew up just above the King’s house. Flame General shot out a grappling hook which attached itself to the helicopter. "Laters!", he said, the grappling hook retreating, carrying him into the sky above. And gone he was. He climbed into the helicopter’s cockpit and quickly took flight toward his Greater Flame Zone.

“That guy”, Beth said, “is gonna get himself killed.”

“You betcha”, Shermy answered. "And it's gonna be all _wapaaam, kapow_..."

“More visitors!”

The quiet, soft voice of the King of Ooo never failed to put a smile on Beth’s face.

Shermy jumped down, holding his hand out until Beth gave him the leaf. He handed it over to the King of Ooo.

“This one’s from Huntress Wizard”, he said, “she says hi.”

“Oh my! How beautiful. Do you want to come in for tea?”

“Aren’t you tired after talking to Flame General?”, Beth asked.

The King of Ooo shrugged his little robot shoulders. “I’m always up for tea after talking about conquering another square mile of land nobody wants anyway.”

“So that’s why he needs that tank”, Shermy said. “We saw him test his new missiles right in front of our house once.”

The King nodded. “He’s obsessed."

Shermy walked into the King’s home and threw himself across a small couch in the back, falling asleep as soon as his behind hit its soft cushions. Beth sat down next to him, putting his head on her knees like she always had, idly rubbing his tummy with a hand. Shermy purred.

The King looked at them for a second, the scene seeming eerily familiar yet still alien. He took another look at the leaf – it really was alive, pulsating, growing, breathing in and out in the evening light of his humble castle. He knew exactly where to put it.

He walked right over to his bedside table and pulled the box out from underneath his bed, lifting its cover slowly, so as not to disturb its sleeping contents. He rummaged through it, past the photograph of him and the gang Beth had brought him just a couple of weeks ago, until he found a small piece of amber. Turning it just right, he saw the blond lock of hair stored inside it, the faintest hint of grey around its corners, frozen in time for all eternity. The last thing left.

He put the leaf around it. They hadn't had all that much time to enjoy together - maybe this meant something. He put them back in the box together, leaving Huntress Wizard to notice a warmth spreading through her in her forest miles away, as she stood still while fixing up the tree she’d shot an arrow into. She stopped and looked out into the distant dark of between the trees, feeling like Finn had just walked past her.

That night, she didn’t turn into a log to sleep. She stayed in human form, just like she had for him, waiting for something, anything, that would make the warmth of the afternoon make sense. Sometime around midnight, when she had already realised that neither sleep nor anything more pleasant would not take her tonight, she felt a hand wrap around her waist, tugging her closer and closer into its warm embrace, and another follow the shivering line of a river across her face, gently moving her leaves to the side so it could leave its faint touch on her edges and corners. She turned around, fully expecting to find someone there, but there was nothing except for the emptiness of her home, filled only by the sounds of the forest. She hugged herself closer. Her fingers retraced the course of his until all movement felt useless, until memory was all that remained of her, both inside and out.

She didn’t sleep that night, but she didn’t want to, either. The sudden rush of his hands had been too warm, too quick and gentle to abandon it to the night. In the morning, a single green leaf had grown in the place where she had been held so, so long ago it almost felt like the present again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun to write, especially because there's some action involved here. Nevertheless, a world like Ooo 1000+ will always have to return to its past at the end of the day, simply because there's so much of it now.
> 
> Again, I'd be happy to hear any and all of your thoughts. Your comments, be they positive or negative, absolutely make my day, and they're one of the reasons I love doing this so much. 
> 
> Also, for anyone wondering Flame General is the guy sitting inside of the tank in the opening of "Come Along With Me".


End file.
